Thursday, July 30, 2009

Chapter 5

If high school was chapter 1, college and meeting Ryan was chapter 2, marriage and the Navy was chapter 3, my career was chapter 4, going civilian is now chapter 5. We're still a solo bread winning household. Ryan's had interviews, been to job conferences, posted and re-posted his resume on all those job finder sites, still...nothin'. We thought for sure that his last two interviews we'd hear something, homeslice that interviewed Ryan said he was a top candidate, but then they decided to go with someone else. It's so competitive out there. Ryan has great work experience, but he's up against peeps with degrees, military experience, civilian experience and all kinds of certifications and crap. We trudge on.

It's not news when I say I make crap for pay (I know I've mentioned this a time or two in the past). My salary covers all but the mortgage, and it's a hefty mortgage, we live near Virginia Beach, the cost of living is insane. We've gone through budget cuts, we've sold crap on Craig's List, I work every weekend pulling overtime. Between working 50-60 hours a week and going to school full time it's a wonder I have any kind of life whatsoever. We just need more money coming in, or less bills. Selling the house isn't an option, we'll lose our shirts. Bad, bad, bad idea. So what's a married couple to do with a hefty mortgage payment and extra space in their house? They get a roommate.

As Ryan and I were trying to figure out what to do before our savings gets completely annialated in the next several months, I mentioned roommate. Ryan of course pictured some Adrianna Lima look a-like, I pictured someone we could trust with the pets, our stuff and would pay us their share. All our friends are either married with kids or trying to have kids, or they live out of state. All but one. He too works for Diablo Enterprises. He has asked that he remain anonymous on my blog, but well we know that I'll slip and give out his real identity, for the sake of taming my tongue we'll call him Bob. We met last fall, and we've become pretty good friends since then and I knew he was looking for a new place. His apartment complex not only resembles a falling down building from the Civil War era but his ex-girlfriend lives in the same building, along with another female....well I won't get into that. Anyways, he joins our circus at the end of the month.

Should be interesting...Ryan and I haven't lived with people since we first got married, and holy crap was that a terrible mistake. Ryan was getting ready to go on his 2nd deployment, he and his buddy Steve came up with the great idea of the four of us moving in together. Steve's girlfriend and I were really good friends, it just made sense. Steve bought a house, everyone moved in. Things were ok, then the guys deployed, and all hell broke loose. Bridget and I were sooooo very different on so many levels. We got along great and put our differences aside, except for housework, oh man it was bad. Screaming, yelling, profanities that could make your blood curl. To save what tiny sliver of a friendship we had left I had to move out. Half way through the deployment I found an apartment and left. The four of us are good now. Steve and Bridget got married, Ryan was one of their groomsmen, Steve got out of the Navy and they moved back to New England. We still talk from time to time, we'll actually see them in a week or two, but at the time it was so very very bad. I'm not as uptight about things as I was back then, and I've learned to not sweat the small stuff. The house isn't going to be perfect all the time, and thankfully Bob agreed to not let the house look like his bedroom just threw up all over the living room (clothes and crap EVERYWHERE).

Stay tuned...

Friday, July 17, 2009


I've realized that it may appear as though I have either bailed out on you guys or died, but rest assured, neither have occured.

Work has been killer, the pressure has been on the receivables department. Yay. Yet, as much as I would like to place ALL the blame of my 50-60 hour work weeks on my bosses bosses boss, I am, much to my dismay, the culprit for my own work overage. I'm a perfectionist (please, you can't POSSIBLY be surprised). I have to be the best of the best, and when I'm not, well...I just do and that's that. For the last year and a half I have been the IT girl in that department, the one, the best, the go to person, if you want it done right and quickly you go to Steph! Well, my loyal blog readers, I have a girl who seems to be catching up to me, and I'm not real thrilled about it.

Having an open relationship with your boss can be good and bad. Right now it's good because I can go to her and say, "WTF! Why are people going to her with stuff they used to come to me for?!?! OH HEEEEELLLLLLL NO!" She in turn replies that they only go to her for certain things and that I need to calm down, I'm still top dog. I, in turn, look sheepish and feel silly. Oh well, nature of the beast I guess.

Then you have school. My GPA is less than desirable right now. I know I've mentioned before that school is quite difficult for me and I'm working full time, so I won't bore you with all that crap again. In order for me to have a certain opportunity that I think I want to take later on down the road, I need to get A's in my next 4 classes otherwise bye bye beautiful opportunity.

So, between keeping my grades up, feeling the stress from upper management and putting un-do stress on myself because I will NOT be matched or out-done, it's been a little hectic is Stephanie Land.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Oiy Vey

Ryan and I are in SC visiting my family for the long weekend. I went to see my mom, who works at A.C. Moore, earlier today. My mom was filling the silk flowers buckets while we were talking, and someone walked up to me and asked me if I could help them. Keep in mind, that my mom was in full work uniform with a company name tag. I was there in jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops, no name tag. I looked at my mom and said, "Um, I can try." She asked where something was and I pointed her in the right direction. About 15 minutes later someone else walked up to us and asked my mom if she worked there. I am a bit animated, at this point I couldn't help but crinkle my eye brows together and look completely confused. I SO wish my mom would have said, "No, I don't work here, sorry." While my mom was working with the customer that wasn't sure if she worked there, a lady came up to me asking me where the ribbon wire was. This completely baffled me, so when I got home I was telling my sisters and come to find out that this happens to them often, especially at Target. This led into a hilarious conversation about the morons that my mom and sisters deal with every day.

My mom and sisters are in customer service, and some of the stories they have are completely insane. People walking up to the service desk at the airport wanting to know where their wife is but don't have a flight number, airline name, nothing. People who come through the Zaxby's drive-thru first thing in the morning wanting nothing but a tea and wanting to pay with a $100 bill. People who drive through the drive-thru, recognize someone and instead of pulling over they put the car in park at the window, blocking the drive-thru. Blows my mind. Props to the peeps in the service industry. Seriously.